Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Том 2Knight, 1824 |
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Сторінка 6
... is wisdom found in him whose locks are black and shining , and whose eye sparkles with youth . The voice of the aged man is weak and his ear is closed with deaf- ness , but he knoweth the truth ; and happy 6 The Editor .
... is wisdom found in him whose locks are black and shining , and whose eye sparkles with youth . The voice of the aged man is weak and his ear is closed with deaf- ness , but he knoweth the truth ; and happy 6 The Editor .
Сторінка 14
... voice of my little boy , who lay in my dressing - room . He was singing at the very top of his clear shrill voice . Involuntarily and by habit I went to fetch him , and had folded him in my arms before I called to mind my resolution to ...
... voice of my little boy , who lay in my dressing - room . He was singing at the very top of his clear shrill voice . Involuntarily and by habit I went to fetch him , and had folded him in my arms before I called to mind my resolution to ...
Сторінка 16
... voice of Love , From ev'ry copse , and bow'r , and grove . But more I love the tender power Of falling Evening's welcome hour ; When her light veil of mist is spread , And day's last crimson line is fled ; While the first star's ...
... voice of Love , From ev'ry copse , and bow'r , and grove . But more I love the tender power Of falling Evening's welcome hour ; When her light veil of mist is spread , And day's last crimson line is fled ; While the first star's ...
Сторінка 24
... voice with your uproar ; look to it ; a day of reckoning will come . Alcibiades himself- SPEUSIPPUs . As to What can you say against him ? His enemies themselves acknowledge his merit . CALLIDEMUS . They acknowledge that he is clever ...
... voice with your uproar ; look to it ; a day of reckoning will come . Alcibiades himself- SPEUSIPPUs . As to What can you say against him ? His enemies themselves acknowledge his merit . CALLIDEMUS . They acknowledge that he is clever ...
Сторінка 36
... voice , those lines of the Tristia : Si tamen interea quid in his ego perditus oris , Quod te credibile est quærere , quæris , agam ? Spe trahor exigua These simple , and yet touching words of the unfortunate bard of Sulmona , have ...
... voice , those lines of the Tristia : Si tamen interea quid in his ego perditus oris , Quod te credibile est quærere , quæris , agam ? Spe trahor exigua These simple , and yet touching words of the unfortunate bard of Sulmona , have ...
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ALCIBIADES Alice ancient Apollonius appear Aristophanes astrology beautiful CALLICLES CALLIDEMUS canto Catalani cause Chaldæan character CHARICLEA charms Christian Chrysanthius court dæmons Dante dear death divine Divine Comedy doctrines dreams Edesius England English Eucharis Eumolpus Euripides evil eyes favour fear feelings friends genius gods Grecian happy heard heart heaven HIPPOMACHUS honour hope human Iamblichus imitation King lady Lanval liberty Lisle live look magic manner mind mountain mysteries Narenor nation nature never night object observation once opinions Parliament passed passion perhaps person Petrarch philosophers Philostratus Platonic Platonists Plotinus poem poet Polybius poor Porphyry prince Proclus Pythagoras racter reader religion rites Roman scarcely sect seemed Sir Lanval smile soul speak SPEUSIPPUS spirit sweet Syrianus thee theurgic thing thou thought Thucydides Tiberias tion truth voice words writers young Zoroaster
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Сторінка 35 - Hurrah ! the foes are moving ! Hark to the mingled din Of fife and steed, and trump and drum, and roaring culverin ! The fiery Duke is pricking fast across St Andre's plain, With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne.
Сторінка 34 - Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land ; And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand : And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood, And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood ; And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre.
Сторінка 450 - You show us Rome was glorious, not profuse, And pompous buildings once were things of use; Yet shall, my lord, your just, your noble rules, Fill half the land with imitating fools ; Who random drawings from your sheets shall take; And of one beauty many blunders make...
Сторінка 325 - Fools! your doublets shone with gold, and your hearts were gay and bold, When you kissed your lily hands to your lemans to-day; And to-morrow shall the fox, from her chambers in the rocks, Lead forth her tawny cubs to howl above the prey. Where be your tongues that late mocked at heaven and hell and fate, And the fingers that once were so busy with your blades, Your perfum'd satin clothes, your catches and your oaths, Your stage-plays and your sonnets, your diamonds and your spades?
Сторінка 382 - It must not be; there is no power in Venice Can alter a decree established: 'Twill be recorded for a precedent, And many an error by the same example Will rush into the state; it cannot be.
Сторінка 301 - That an accursed thing it is to gaze On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye...
Сторінка 161 - Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day, While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded...
Сторінка 216 - Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death — A universe of death ! which God by curse Created evil— for evil only good, Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, inutterable, and worse Than fables yet have feigned, or fear conceived, Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire.
Сторінка 35 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale ; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, " Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman is my foe : Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Сторінка 35 - Oh, was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre? Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ! Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return ! Ho ! Philip, send for charity thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls. Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright ! Ho ! burghers of St.